


The Staff Christmas Party

by me_midget (gin_tonic)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Public Sex, Wall Sex, mentions of skirt porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-16
Updated: 2010-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gin_tonic/pseuds/me_midget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry goes to the annual staff Christmas party at Hogwarts he sees only one way to escape his crush on Draco...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Staff Christmas Party

Harry stared morosely into his cup, but found that this didn't help. Hot cocoa with rum was definitely not strong enough to help him survive the annual Staff Christmas Party at Hogwarts. Feared by most, cherished by few, the party still couldn't be avoided - and that was exactly why every teacher had come to hang around in the colourfully decorated staff lounge.

McGonagall was drinking her beloved Gillywater - her fourth, if Harry had counted correctly - and chatted merrily with Flitwick, while Madam Pince and Mr. Filch looked like they wanted to vanish into a dark corner and do something very ghastly. Whether or not this would be under the watchful eyes of Mrs Norris, Harry did not want to know. Professor Slughorn was now talking to poor Madam Pomfrey about something inane and judging from the look on her face he was also spitting again. Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch were trying to get as drunk as possible to survive the madness, which was, in Harry's eyes the only sensible thing one could do. Especially when one was standing in the same room as Draco Malfoy and blushed like a fucking virgin every time Draco came near.

Draco. He couldn't remember exactly how long he had been calling him that. The hateful 'Malfoy' had got exchanged along the way and the only thing that was left now was Draco. Draco, who had made him feel weak-kneed even before the two of them had begun teaching at Hogwarts. That had, of course, complicated matters immensely and made get-togethers like this pure, blazingly hot hell. Only two things helped in these situations, but Harry had soon discovered that trying to be extra unfriendly while one was practically salivating over the other was quite impossible. So the only thing that was left was alcohol. Plenty of it.

This was why Harry grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey firmly and poured himself a glass, even though he actually preferred to have a lager.

"It's not that bad, Potter." Draco's voice came from Harry's left. Harry closed his eyes and damned the heavens for not granting him drink first.

"I assure you, Malfoy, it is," Harry said and turned to face Draco, like the Gryffindor he was. He didn't know how Malfoy managed to look that edible in comfortable robes, but he did. So much so that in an effort not to rip Draco's clothes off of his body, Harry was clutching his glass in panic.

God, this was embarrassing. Why couldn't he get past this fucking crush?

Merlin knew he had tried to find someone else, but it just hadn't worked out. Richard had been painfully unlike Draco - from the wrong shade of hair to the wrong sense of humour. Harry had tried to make it work - honestly - but Richard hadn't been the right man for him. The two one-night stands hadn't done anything to help Harry to forget Draco, either. Both had been blond, of course, and while they had been good they hadn't been what he had searched for.

It was ridiculous that he couldn't get rid of his feelings ... lust ... or whatever it was that made him behave like a bloody teenager. Draco had never done anything to give him reason to believe that they would ever be more than colleagues who had once gone to school together. Though it was plainly obvious that Draco was gay. Hell, he actually flaunted it! And from the rumours Harry had heard -- No! He didn't want to go there! Especially not now, when Draco was looking at him like he expected Harry to say something. Meaning that Draco had said something. And Harry hadn't fucking listened. Way to go, Potter!

"Err ... sorry?" He knew he was blushing. He knew it! Hell, why was he blushing?!

Draco tsked and shook his head as if to announce Harry's apparently evident dementia and deafness.

"Potter, Potter, what is it with you? Is it the teaching? Are the little brats driving you into madness?"

That actually made Harry snort, especially in the light of last week's fourth year lesson, when Elloise Printhock - Gryffindor - had managed to transfigure a toucan into something so indescribably obscure, that Harry had indeed doubted his own sanity for a moment. Thankfully a swish of his wand and getting Elloise to actually read about what she was supposed to transfigure the toucan into had helped on that matter. Or so he had thought. Because now that he looked in Draco's eyes he wasn't so sure about his sanity anymore.

"Something like that," he finally mumbled and looked down at his glass. Somehow the Firewhiskey had vanished. Weird. And evil. Especially now that he needed it so badly to fend off those stormy eyes.

Soft and surprisingly strong hands with calluses right on the places where palm and fingers met pried the glass out of his hand. Harry wished he could keep those hands at least, if not the glass, but both were gone far too fast for his liking.

"Here, let me get that, Potter," Draco said with that voice of his that he seemed to use whenever he was doing something remotely nice for Harry. There was a hint of _something_ in there and it drove Harry crazy that he couldn't quite identify it, couldn't figure out what it meant. The glass was pressed back into his hand and Harry stared down on it. __

"That's not Firewhiskey," Harry mumbled mostly to himself. Didn't he have Firewhiskey in his glass before?

"No, it isn't," Draco chuckled.

"What is it?" Harry squinted down at his glass. The liquid looked clear, even slightly frosty. Vodka? Tequila? Wheat schnapps? Ron had insisted on trying Muggle liquor once and they had ordered all kinds of alcohol, but that was about all that Harry remembered from that particular night.

"That, Potter, is called water," Draco said dryly, and Harry felt like a right idiot - but it didn't stop him from asking Draco why he would give him water to drink. After all you couldn't get drunk from it.

"It's quite easy, Potter," Draco said in return. "As much as I like you when you're drunk and willing," Harry's eyes widened comically at that, but Draco kept on talking, "I would prefer you to be at least halfway sober when I want to snog the pants off you." Harry whipped up his head and stared at Draco.

"What?!" he squeaked.

"I said: I prefer you halfway sober when I want to talk to you. Now drink your water and follow me. I prefer my arse not to be ogled by that drunk bastard Slughorn while we have our first decent conversation since we arrived at Hogwarts." And with that, Draco turned and strolled over to the alcove that was half-hidden behind the huge boxwood that Madam Sprout had insisted on putting in the room during one of her 'Let's-make-Hogwarts-greener' fits.

Harry stared at his glass, then back at Draco and took a sip. It was indeed water. Harry couldn't help but wonder how long it would take until the nice people from St. Mungo's would arrive to take him and give him the bed right next to Gilderoy Lockhart. Judging from what he thought he had heard Draco say just a few seconds ago, Harry figured that it couldn't take much longer.

"So what now?" Harry asked as he caught up to Draco, ignoring the look that he got that clearly said that it took him bloody long to get there.

"Now we talk, Potter," Draco said, patting the space right next to him. Harry followed the invitation and inhaled deeply. Draco smelled good. Too good. He already found his insides turning as if they were preparing for the Wronski Feint.

"About what?" It was like he was sitting in one of those quiz shows that Aunt Petunia had always watched and he was one of the candidates that knew absolutely no answer to any of the bloody easy questions. He would even bet that somewhere his family was sitting right now, commenting on how incapable he was and saying that he had the most atrocious hairstyle they had ever seen.

"About how hot you look tonight, Potter."

Harry's eyes widened.

"What?" he squeaked, not trusting his alcohol and Christmas carol damaged ears.

"Downright edible."

"God, Malfoy, you can't just say that!" Harry hissed, though his tone was less sharp and more groaning than he had intended.

"Why not? I know you want me," Draco told him calmly.

Harry downed his water, missing his whiskey. Of course he wanted Draco.

"You spent the entire evening practically undressing me with your eyes," Draco continued.

Harry bit his lip. Had be been that obvious?

"Please, I -"

Draco put his forefinger over Harry's mouth and smiled at him. "I want you, too," he whispered, and then he leaned in and kissed Harry. The touch of his lips was soft, testing and Harry couldn't help but open his mouth slightly to let Draco's tongue in. Addictive, that was the right word to describe their deepening kisses. He would never be able to forget Draco's taste, how Draco felt, how he felt like he was on fire, burning away in the rhythm of their kisses.

"C'mon, let's go outside," Draco said as they parted and swung his arm around Harry's shoulders as he led him outside, away from Slughorn and Trelawney, the alcohol and the Christmas carols. Seeing the hallway, Harry sobered up a bit and stopped.

"You can't do this," Harry mumbled more to himself, but meaning both of them.

"Why not?" Draco sounded genuinely surprised.

"I am not going to be another notch in your bedpost," Harry said determinedly, only slightly slurring the words.

A smirk - OH! Damn that fucking sexy smirk! - played with Draco's lips as he said: "Who said I make notches?"

"You know what I mean! I'm not going to be one of all the others."

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Potter -"

"We're colleagues!"

"I know. What's that got to do with this?"

Harry closed his eyes. How could he make it clear to Draco that it would break Harry's heart if this was only one-off? Or that working together would be a sheer impossibility.

"Promise me a date," he said eventually.

"What?"

"A date. I want a date with you."

"Why?"

"I want to go out with you."

"Don't people do that before fucking?"

"Usually, yes."

"But you want me to go on a date with you afterwards?"

"Well, if you rather wait -"

"No! Fine, you'll get your date."

Harry's heart skipped a beat and he stepped up to Draco, leaned up and kissed him again. When they broke apart Draco had pressed Harry against a wall and one of his alabaster-hands was under Harry's shirt.

"God!" Harry gasped. He shouldn't do this, should take more care, should demand that they go to a room, but Draco's touches were even better than his kisses.

"Like that?" Draco asked and Harry nodded his head, biting his lips. He was shaking and prayed for Draco not to notice or at least to take it for eagerness. But Draco leaned in again and pressed his lips to Harry's cheek. "Nervous?"

Harry nodded again. "I ... I haven't ... I mean not in a long ... and ...," he stammered self-consciously and wished for a blanket to hide under.

"Don't worry." Draco let his month wander down Harry's throat while he opened the top buttons of Harry's shirt. Harry was trembling with anticipation. "Turn around," Draco whispered and helped Harry, pressing him against the stone wall. The cold seeped through Harry's shirt and made his nipples to harden.

Draco's hand wandered from under Harry's shirt down to his crotch, where he cupped Harry's bulge, biting his neck at the same time and made Harry to whine.

"Nice," Draco hissed and Harry was glad that the other man couldn't see the virginal blush spreading over his cheeks.

The belt and buttons were undone quickly and Draco pushed Harry's trousers down. Slowly he moved the fingers of his other hand there, letting them dance over Harry's arse before dipping into the cleft.

"Spread," Draco said against Harry's ear, making him to shudder, and Harry complied. Only seconds later Harry felt Draco's fingers circling his hole and Draco cast a spell before pushing the first one in.

"Fuck!" Harry exclaimed and leaned his head against the stone. Draco seemed to know what he was doing, moving the finger in and out, finding Harry's prostate easily. Soon a second and a third finger followed and Harry spread his legs as far as the trousers around his ankles would permit.

"Holy -! God ... Please, Draco, I -," Harry moaned wantonly and writhed against the stone wall, not caring how hard or rough it felt. He needed more friction - needed more of everything - and he needed it now!

"Ready for more?" Draco asked, his voice strained and deeper than usual.

"Yes!"

Draco pulled his fingers out of Harry's arse and slicked up his own cock, careful not to rub too much. He didn't ask again if Harry was ready, but pushed forward, meeting only little resistance. Harry hissed, but pushed back to keep Draco going.

When Draco was finally fully sheathed Harry felt full and even though it burned, he never thought of stopping. Not when he was so close.

"Tell me how much you want it," Draco rasped, clearly using every ounce of effort to restrain himself.

"God, Draco, please move!" Harry cried out desperately, not even caring if someone heard him. "I want - I need - I - Fuck me! Please!" He felt Draco's pleased smirk against his neck and would have smiled himself, if Draco hadn't chosen that very moment to pull out and plunge right in again, ripping Harry's mouth open in a gasp.

"Yes!" Draco exclaimed as he pummelled Harry's arse. "Merlin, yes! You are so tight!" Each of his thrusts met Harry's prostate and Harry found himself unable to speak or think. Pleasure was electrifying his body, pressing out, gasps and groans and half-voice pleas for more. He felt himself getting close, felt the hard stone against his nipples and cock, and Draco pushed in harder and Harry finally came with a cry. Draco followed a few seconds after, creaming Harry's hole.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath, a broad smile gracing his face. He felt a kiss on his sweaty neck and Draco pulled out, leaving Harry's arse feeling empty. Harry reached down to pick up his trousers, trying to ignore how good the soreness felt, and glanced at Draco, who was giving him a hazy smile in return.

Just as he was about to say something the door to the staff lounge opened and Slughorn poked his head out. Harry thanked God and whoever else was listening that they were at least covered by now and tried to look inconspicuous.

"I heard cries. Everything alright, gentlemen?" Slughorn asked with a hiccup. Harry and Draco nodded.

"Everything in order," Draco said. "We were just on our way to our rooms."

Slughorn said something intelligible about them leaving too soon, but then someone inside called his name and asked if he wanted some more brandy and he vanished again, not even bothering to wish them a good night.

Harry, embarrassed as he was, coughed and cast a cleaning spell at the wall, and then fell into step with Draco.

"Well, I'm certainly glad that we're going to have a date," Draco declared after a couple of seconds.

Harry eyes widened. "You are? Why?"

"Because I will fuck you afterwards. And this time you're going to wear a skirt."

Harry swatted at Draco, but smiled despite the slightly crude words.


End file.
